


Long Past Dawn

by LaoTzu



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged up characters, Jet's trying his hardest, Jetko, Jetko Renaissance Week, Jetko Week, M/M, Not all angst, gets happier, kinda sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27150554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaoTzu/pseuds/LaoTzu
Summary: "I'm – I'm not gonna' – try anything, if - if that's what you're thinking," Zuko assured with his head turned, and Jet could see the light hint of a blush on his face.Jet could feel the blood rush to his own, sort of thankful he had the liquor to blame. That is NOT what he was thinking."When Jet went to confront Lee for being a Fire Bender, him and his Uncle had vanished. Without a battle to fight, Jet settled into 'normalcy' in Ba Sing Se. He'd calmed down a bit over time, and found himself settling into this new life.But once finding out where Lee is, will Jet still be able to keep his calm?
Relationships: Jet/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60
Collections: Jetko Renaissance Week





	Long Past Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> There is implied mental health issues in this (mainly depression). There is also a tiny bit of implied violence but not towards any main characters.

Zuko ran his thumb over the flint wheel of a gold flip lighter. Why he'd kept it, he was unsure. It didn't even work. It barely made a spark, even when he struck it as hard as he could. He mindlessly flipped it open and closed, noting the distinct sound it made as he stared at the ceiling from his bed.

He knows deep down why he kept it. If, in the off chance, he ever came across Jet again, he could give it back. It had fallen out of his pocket during intake to the city, and after that Zuko had never seen him again. But he told himself other reasons to keep it. It seemed nice, even though it didn't work. Perhaps he could get a few dollars for it if he ever needed the money. There was an intricate rose carved into the gold, adding to its mystery. He ran his thumb over it, feeling the soft rise and fall of the engraving. He wondered what the story was behind it. If there was a story at all. There had to be, if Jet kept it even though it didn't work. He wondered if he'd ever get the chance to ask him about it.

He somewhat regretted telling Jet he wouldn't join his gang. It didn't seem like such a bad idea in hindsight. Ba Sing Se was slam full of people, but yet, somehow, he'd never felt lonelier. Uncle tried to fill his time, but there was a void that he simply couldn't fill on his own. Zuko longed for company. For friends. But he surely wasn't good at making them. And he longed for closeness. For warmth. For love. But he told himself it'd never work. He'd never be able to keep up an act like that. It wouldn't be right. To lie to someone who trusted him. So, he just went without.

It'd been months in the city, and each day he felt more and more like an outcast. He didn't fit in here. He didn't belong here. He wasn't even sure who he was anymore.

He hadn't particularly given up on capturing the avatar, but it definitely wasn't at the forefront of his mind every day like it used to be. Instead he just filled with emptiness. He didn't have a drive anymore. He had no goals to fulfill. He'd never had dreams like a normal person. His only dream was going home. To be the shining crown prince under his father, but he wasn't sure that he could even do that anymore. So, what was he to do? Keep making tea with his uncle, here, in Ba Sing Se, for the rest of his life? Uncle seemed happy enough with the idea, but the Jasmine Dragon wasn't nearly as fulfilling for Zuko. If anything, it just kept him busy.

He sighed to himself and flicked the spark-less lighter shut, placing it on the windowsill and trying not to pay it any more mind for the night. Maybe tomorrow, he could find someone that could fix it.

* * *

Jet tapped a nail into a fence, driving it in with one swing of his hammer a second later. He held an unlit cigarette between his lips, sweat dripping from his forehead despite the cool autumn air, as he surveyed the work he'd already done. Perhaps he'd get to go home early today if he kept it up like this. Things were going pretty smoothly for once.

"Looks good," Zhen's gravelly voice called from behind.

Jet wiped the moisture from his face onto his sleeve, turning to face his boss a moment later. He liked working outside, and more so, he liked Zhen. He reminded him a bit of his father. From what he could remember anyway.

"Thanks," he answered.

"Don't get too relaxed. You know these rich types don't like to see you take a second off," Zhen reminded, lifting a nail and driving it with one swing. He didn't even tap it in. Just lifted his hammer and swung. It was something Jet had yet to master. He lifted another and repeated his schedule, going down a line until five planks had been secured. Jet tried his best to keep up with this slender old man.

They were done before noon, but by that time, his whole body ached. He wasn't sure why. It wasn't like this work was new to him.

"You did good today. Just gotta' work on your speed," Zhen observed as they made their way towards the Lower Ring gate. Jet could feel the eyes on them as they walked. Two laborers drenched in sweat; they stood out amongst the merchants and higher class of the Middle ring. "Don't pay 'em any mind. They never worked a day in their life," Zhen stated without even having to look at him. "Just take their money and move on."

Jet liked that Zhen only said what needed to be said. He didn't talk often and when he did, it wasn't a lot. Just enough to drive Jet in the direction he wanted. Jet himself wasn't much of a man for conversation these days. It made for a peaceful job. Quiet. Thoughtful. Nothing to distract him from his nails.

He was even quiet at home. Smellerbee had said she was worried about him, but he didn't think there was much to worry about. They'd made it to Ba Sing Se. They'd all gotten jobs. They'd settled into normalcy. They had what they wanted; A new life beyond the wall. This was his second chance. This was his new beginning.

But it wasn't at all like he'd thought it'd be. They didn't all eat like Kings every night like he'd heard. There was no real life to be lived here. Only walls. And secrets. And poor folk strewn through the streets, their baggage the only things to their names. His gang had been those same people at first; Thrown into the city and left to rot, but they'd made due. They had to. There wasn't another option.

He was a broken man, but he wasn't yet willing to admit it. He'd carried his gang, well _they'd_ carried _him_ , all the way to Ba Sing Se. And yet still, they hadn't found a home. Or at least _he_ hadn't. He had a roof over his head, but that was it. He missed the forest. The endless skies and the bright stars. The wind in the trees. The animals. The kids running under his feet. He hated to admit it, but he missed the Fire Nation constantly being over the horizon too. Because here, there was no enemy to best. No trees to climb. No ladders or treehouses to constantly fix. No mouths to feed. No purpose. No drive. No fight. No… nothing.

Just work. And go home. Eat. And sleep.

After Lee, he didn't have any fight left in him. He spent all his energy and poured all his time into proving to everyone that he'd been right. But - he never got the chance. It was all for not.

The day he showed to confront them they just…weren't there anymore. He had no idea what had happened to him or his Uncle. They just up and left. Or maybe someone else had turned them in. Looking back, perhaps he _had_ just been paranoid. He never got any real evidence, and he felt… sort of guilty about the whole thing in hindsight. He'd liked Lee from the short time they had on the ferry, and then he was gone. It pained Jet, but he wasn't exactly sure why. He hadn't really known him all _that_ well.

But he just… vanished. Fire Bender or not, he was just… _gone_. He didn't want to admit it, but… he had been _worried_ about him. Still sort of was.

"What are you doing for dinner tonight?" Zhen asked plainly, breaking through his silent sulking.

Jet looked to him a bit perplexed. He wasn't one to ask dinner plans. He wasn't one to ask anything at all, which was why he was so easy to get a job with.

"I'm – not sure," Jet answered honestly. Probably take-out from the noodle shop like it always was.

"You hungry now?"

Jet peered to his feet. He supposed he could eat. He didn't have breakfast. Not because he couldn't… just - _didn't_. "You have something in mind?" he asked instead of answering.

"Cornbread. Probably some hog-chicken," Zhen answered. "You coming?" he added, like it wasn't a question.

"Sure," Jet said, and they walked the rest of the way in silence.

Zhen lived like they all did; In a somewhat rundown apartment complex or a house with a leaky roof or a sink with only one temperature: cold. He didn't have much furniture. A large squared off couch and a dining room table with one chair was all he really needed. He made a couple plates with exactly what he'd said; a few squares of plain cornbread and a chicken leg each. He handed one to Jet and sat at the opposite end of the couch.

"So," he said, digging a fork into his plate. "What's up witcha?"

"What do you mean?" Jet asked.

"Where's your girlfriend?"

Jet furrowed his brows. What bug had bitten him in the ass today? "I don't have one."

"Figures," Zhen said, like he wasn't surprised. Jet tried not to take offense. "You used to fight?" he asked, again like it wasn't a question.

"How'd you know?" Jet asked, suddenly curious.

"You swing a hammer perty good. Better than most people," he said, like that answered everything. "But you smell like smoke."

"Sorry," Jet said, unsure of what else to say. Old him would have told this guy to fuck off by now, or yell at him that it wasn't his business. But he just didn't have the energy anymore.

"Ya killin' yourself, smoking them thangs," Zhen said, but there wasn't judgement in his voice.

"Yeah, - well," Jet said, trailing off.

Zhen chewed his food, seemingly unbothered. "You know, I used to fight too. Don't know if we was fighting the same people though."

"Yeah?"

"Yep. Old man Zhen used to be a ruffian. Can you believe it?" he asked, then chuckled; Which Jet had never heard before.

Jet smiled a bit. "I can, actually."

"Got old real fast though," Zhen said, a bit softer. "When ya stop - kinda' feels like you're stuck in a cage, don't it?"

Jet peered to his plate, which he'd barely touched. "Kinda'."

"But it's worth it in the end. I promise you kid. You got any friends?"

"A couple yeah," Jet answered.

"Better than most people," Zhen stated then looked off into space. "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure, Zhen."

"I don't tell too many people 'bout this, but you look like it could help you. So, imma tell you," Zhen stated.

"You don't have to," Jet started, but he _was_ curious. He didn't know much about Zhen.

"I'm an old man. Don't have much to give to the world besides stories anymore. So, just let me."

"Okay," Jet simply said.

"So, how to start. Okay, well – I used to run with a rough crowd, to say the least. Not gonna' tell you all of what we did, but," Zhen trailed off for a minute, gathering his thoughts. "Anyway, some of it wasn't good. I was fighting people all the time. I always won, but well, I hurt some of 'em. Some of 'em perty bad. I didn't care at the time though."

"You really don't have to tell me all of this," Jet said, a bit quietly. Some part of him just didn't want to hear anymore.

"No, I do," Zhen said. "You got a couple a friends, right?"

"Yeah," Jet confirmed once again.

"You know what made me stop fighting? A had a friend named Ed. Great guy. Better than I ever was and- one day, well, one day he got jumped by a couple a guys I had fought. They beat him close to death. He was never the same. Guy couldn't even eat right after that," Zhen trailed off. "I never fought again after that."

"So, what'd you do?" Jet asked softly. His mind jumped to Bee and Longshot. He didn't think he could bear if something like that happened to them… because of _him_. Looking back, he was lucky no one had ever gotten seriously hurt.

"I went and got a real job. Got a girlfriend. She was better than me too. Colony gal," Zhen stated.

Jet furrowed his brow. "You mean an ashmaker," he spat, feeling an old anger beginning to bubble in his chest.

Zhen smiled a sad smile, disregarding him. "Yep. Long black hair. Golden eyes. Prettiest thing I ever saw. Sweet too. I was gonna' marry her. I loved that woman more than anything in the world."

Jet's anger withered and was replaced with guilt at his outburst. His mind went to Lee's golden eyes, but he pushed that thought away quickly.

"Why didn't you?" he asked, a bit softer.

"She didn't want me. Well, she did at first, but – I wasn't done fighting yet. I mighta' not been fighting with my fists anymore, but I wasn't done. I was angry. Pissed off all the time. I'd start arguments with her just to do it, and she ended up leaving me. Don't know why I did it– just, guess I needed _something_ to fight. Didn't make it right, but…"

"Why are you telling me this?" Jet asked.

"I don't want you to be like me, kid. I don't want to get to the end of your life and look back and see ya ain't ever did nothing good for no one. Even yourself. I'm old, but _you_ , you got time. It ain't too late for you. Don't ruin your life like I did."

Jet looked at his plate and stayed quiet. He didn't really know what to say.

"You know, you don't really gotta' _stop_ fighting. Not completely, anyway."

Jet looked to him, but he wouldn't look back. "What do you mean?" he asked, a bit confused.

"I was fighting for the wrong reasons. I was fighting cause I was pissed off at the world. But now, I – I'm still fighting. Might not look like much, but I still do it. I just do it in a different way now, I suppose. I fight for my peace of mind. Every. Single. Day. Mighta' been easier had I started earlier, but damn it all, I'm going down swinging," Zhen said with a soft chuckle, and Jet smiled a sad smile. "Just promise me something, kid."

"Sure," Jet said.

"Don't end up like me. Don't wait til the end of your life to realize that you don't gotta be so damn angry all the time. Fight for your peace of mind and nothing else. And one day, well, one day maybe you won't have to fight for it anymore."

"What- what if I don't know how?" Jet asked quietly.

"Guess you should figure it out," Zhen simply said. "Gotta' couple a friends right? Start with them. Go home. Shave the damn stubble off your face. Go out with your friends. Get a date. Do something besides sit on your ass and go to work with me. Promise me."

Jet smiled. "Okay, Zhen. I promise."

"Now, go smoke a damn cigarette. I know you want to," Zhen said with a chuckle. "Shit, all this sappy shit makes me want one too."

* * *

Jet could feel Smellerbee's eyes on him as he brushed his hair from their couch. He grimaced as the bristles caught an extra tight snag.

"What are you doing?" she asked, like it was a shocker that he was brushing his hair. He tried not to take offense.

"What does it look like?" he asked.

"You going somewhere?"

He sat the brush down on the table and ruffled his hair, causing it to poof a bit on top of his head. "Yeah, we're going out."

She gave him a perplexed look. "It's Wednesday," she noted.

"So?"

"So, what's the occasion?"

"There isn't one. Just – want to do something with you and Longshot," he said.

She smiled a little, but quickly stifled it. Like she wasn't trying _not_ to get her hopes up. It pained him, but he brushed the thoughts away. They were going to have a good night. He'd make sure of it.

"Where are we going?"

"Well, where do _you_ wanna' go?" he asked. "I'll pay."

"Well," she said, pausing for a moment to think. "Me and Longshot have been going to this dumpling place in the upper ring. It's pretty good. Not too expensive either."

"What's it called?"

"Nothing but Dumplings," she said.

He laughed a little and she smiled, this time not trying to stifle it.

So, Nothing but Dumplings it was, and they cooked a mean dumpling. He'd have been a little disappointed if they didn't. He noticed something with Bee and Longshot, something he hadn't noticed before. He wasn't sure how he'd missed the change, but they were actually _holding hands_. He didn't comment on it. He was a bit embarrassed he hadn't noticed them getting closer over the last few months. He was so caught up with his own mess that he hadn't even seen something so obvious. He pretended it wasn't new information to him, but that didn't stop him from feeling bad about it. He was happy for them though. They deserved one another.

Longshot looked at him and smiled from across the table, lifting his chin ever so gently to somewhere behind him. Jet got the hint and looked over his shoulder casually, eyeing what Longshot had surely been trying to draw his attention to. A girl. A cute one, at that.

"Should I?" he asked.

"Talk to her, dumbass," Smellerbee said without looking up from her food. She never missed a damn thing, did she?

Jet smiled and stood, brushing his clothing down and feeling a sudden burst of confidence. He hadn't asked anyone out in a while. Perhaps it was time.

He got halfway to her table before someone, presumably her boyfriend, slid next to her and kissed her on the cheek. Jet inhaled a sharp breath and stopped, shifting on his feet to go back to his table before she'd noticed him. He sat back down and Longshot gave him a sympathetic look. It didn't really matter. At least he hadn't embarrassed himself.

They paid their check and Smellerbee and Longshot said their goodbyes. He, however, was going to stay out. The house just seemed too depressing to go back to at the moment. He needed to stay out for just a little while longer. He was feeling good. Confident. Better than he had in a while. He wanted to build on it.

So, he went to a bar. He wasn't much of a drinker, but where else do you go to meet people? The air was smoky, and the place wasn't what he considered to be buzzing. But it should work fine enough. He slid onto a bar stool and ordered a beer, looking around him casually for someone to potentially talk to. He lit a cigarette, letting the smoke fall lazily from his lips. Perhaps he could have picked a better place. This one seemed a little… _mature_ for him.

He got three beers in before he gave up looking around. He was a bit fuzzy, but he should be able to walk home just fine. He was about to get up to go, when someone bumped into his shoulder. He turned to address it, and his jaw dropped.

It was a younger guy with dark chestnut hair. A _very_ cute one, at that. He was glad the girl at the restaurant had a boyfriend now. "Sorry," he said, but a smile pulled at his lips. Like he'd bumped into him on purpose.

"It's okay," Jet said as he slid onto the stool next to him.

"What's your name?"

"It's Jet."

"Mines Li," he said.

Jet stifled a laugh. His life was absurd. _Of course_ his name was Li. There's a million Li's.

"I haven't heard that name in a while," Jet said. "Is it with an 'I' or an 'ee'?" he asked.

"An 'I'," he answered with a charming smile. "You know someone else named Li?" he asked curiously.

"Yeah, but theirs was with an 'ee'," Jet answered, peering to his beer.

"Old boyfriend?"

Jet smiled. "No, nothing like that," he answered. Regrettably, he thought, but he pushed the thought away.

This Li looked a bit disheartened, like it wasn't the answer he was looking for. Jet perked his brow at him. "I am, you know, though," he added, and Li smiled once more at the confirmation.

He was cute, and they hit it off well, but Jet couldn't help his trailing thoughts. It was just too weird. He didn't know if he could be with someone if when every time he said their name, he thought of someone else. It wouldn't be fair to him. He drank another beer with this Li and stood to straighten his clothing.

"You're leaving?" Li asked, like it surprised him.

"I'm sorry – just, gotta' get going. Gotta' work in the morning," Jet excused.

Li smiled, which surprised him. Probably glad to hear that he wasn't leaving because of him. "Okay, well, I come here all the time. If you wanna' do this another time?"

Jet smiled, trying to hide the fact that he'd probably never come here again. "Another time. Have a good night Li," he said, only being genuine in the last half. He left without another word.

He could feel the cold creeping back in as he walked home. He hadn't necessarily struck out, but it sure felt like it. He walked passed a liquor store and eyed it. He pushed the thought away. He got a street over and turned back around, buying a small bottle of whiskey and walking towards home once more. Fuck it, he thought, as he opened it on the dark, empty street.

Three streets over, and it was a quarter empty already. A Dai Li agent eyed him as he walked by, but Jet was pretty good at holding his alcohol. He felt warm inside, but he wasn't stumbling. He was sure if someone talked to him, he'd slur though. He kept his eyes on his feet, one in front of the other, and kept on his way home; the brown bag gripped tight in his hand.

This walk was taking forever. He'd underestimated how long it was back to the gate, and he still had the entire middle ring to go back through. And it didn't help he was starting to see double. He sighed and kept on, making sure he was rounding the correct corners every so often. He was just getting into his thoughts. Just starting to question every thing in his life. What was the point? Why even bother? Those kinds of questions. That's when he heard it; a distant, yet familiar voice calling his name. He looked up, but surely he was just drunk. He looked back down.

"Jet?" he heard again, and this time it was closer. He looked up and there he was right in front of him.

Lee.

"Lee?" he questioned back, unsure if it was really him or if he was just drunk and thinking about him. Or was this a ghost?

"What – what are you doing out here?" he asked.

Jet peered to his brown bag. Surely it was obvious. "Oh, not much uh," he said, wanting to divert the attention off himself. "Whatcha' got there? Got some groceries?" he said. Spirits, how was he such a dumb idiot? Why was he even talking to him? He was a fucking _Fire Bender_. And he's asking him about his _groceries_.

Zuko looked down to his bag full of errands. "Something like that," he said with a soft smile. "Are you - okay?" he asked, diverting the attention back to Jet.

Jet shifted on his feet and tried to look him in the face. "Yeah, I'm – I'm okay," he said.

"You've been drinking?" Zuko asked, but Jet didn't hear judgement in his question.

He sighed and pressed his eyes shut. No real reason to lie. The evidence was in his hand. "Yeah, a little," he said.

"Well," Zuko said, shifting his feet as well. Jet wasn't sure what the expression was on his face. Concern? Pity? "I'm going this way anyway. Want me to walk you home?"

"Uh," Jet answered. "Just don't-" he started, not even sure where he was going with it. Don't feel bad for him? Don't worry about it? What? "I'm not-" Not walking home with a potential Fire Bender? Not going to trust a golden eyed colonizer like you?

He sighed, unable to bring words to his lips.

 _Fight for your peace of mind and nothing else_. He told himself. He made a promise. Besides, it wasn't like he was in much of a position to do much fighting anyway. He didn't even have his swords on him.

Zuko perked his brow, but Jet couldn't distinguish what he could possibly be thinking. Probably judging him for being drunk in public.

"I'm – I'm not gonna' – _try anything_ , if - if that's what you're thinking," Zuko assured with his head turned, and Jet could see the light hint of a blush on his face.

Jet could feel the blood rush to his own, sort of thankful he had the liquor to blame. That is NOT what he was thinking, but good to know the Fire Bender wasn't a rapist. That's real nice to know. It's… it's not like he ever thought he was anyway. Not… not like other colonizers, he supposed. Besides, it's not like Lee was the one peeping in through windows at _him_. For a month... Surely, if anyone should be assuring they weren't a creep, it'd be him.

"That's – good," he said, unsure of what else to say. "I'm - not gonna' either," he added, as if he even could right now.

Zuko gestured for him to walk with a somewhat amused smile, and for the umpteenth time that day, Jet tried not to take offense. He forced his legs to move, and the two walked slowly. One foot in front of the other once more. He tried to sneak suspicious glances at Lee as they walked, but he was much too focused on his feet.

"So, you still live in the lower ring?" Zuko asked.

Jet perked up a bit. Oh yeah, he was walking him home. But that means… His heart dropped. That means he has to tell the Fire bender where he _lives._

"Maybe," he said, a little defensively.

Lee seemed unbothered, which would normally piss him off. But… it felt as ridiculous coming out as it probably did to him. He sighed again.

"That's a long walk," Zuko noted.

"And?" Spirits, he probably seemed like the biggest brat on Earth right now. Here he was, being a dick to Lee and the poor guy didn't even know why. The poor guy was trying to be nice and walk him home…

"Well," Zuko started then paused, as if looking for words. "The Jasmine Dragon isn't nearly as far. You could crash on the couch. I'm sure my Uncle wouldn't mind."

Jet didn't answer immediately, just unscrewed the top to the whiskey and took a big swig. Lee looked at him incredulously, but fuck it, he was right. But that didn't stop him from needing to be extra drunk to stay at the Fire Bender's house.

"Hey, woah, slow down," Zuko said with a wave of his hands.

"Fuck," he breathed as the bottle left his lips, feeling the burn reach his stomach. "Come on, Lee. Let's –" he paused, comically blowing air through his lips. "Go to your house," he murmured.


End file.
